Taking Notice, Taking Action
FROM THE RECTOR
The number of petitions we mention aloud during that part of the Prayers of the People when we hold before God the welfare of the world is growing. This week, I added those in the path of Hurricane Ida. The week before, I added those who were in the path of Hurricane Henri. A week before that, I added those who were impacted by the earthquake in Haiti and those who lived in the paths of wildfires. Given the magnitude of the devastation being caused by these disasters, we would do well to remember for years those who will spend that time trying to rebuild their homes and their lives. I wonder, though, what a holy and faithful response in this moment of acute awareness looks like.
Last year, at about this time, we prayed for those in the paths of wildfires. Though I can no longer recall the specifics, I remember noting with brief and detached interest how one wildfire replaced another as the largest in a particular state’s history. As one who grew up in the paths of hurricanes, I have never lived in an area affected by wildfires, but they have begun to encroach on my own naive sense of security. Weather patterns, which are temporary phenomena, may provide a break next year or the year after that, but climate change, which is the persistent pattern that drives the weather, promises no long-term relief.
As Hurricane Ida approached the Gulf Coast, I tried to recall the names of the hurricanes from my childhood that had caused significant damage close to my home. When I looked up Danny, which I remembered being the first big storm after I got my driver’s license, I was surprised to learn that it was the only Atlantic hurricane to make landfall in the United States during the 1997 season. There have been other years since then with relatively little tropical activity, but I would guess that in the future we are more likely to dip back into the Greek alphabet than see another year with only a few named storms.
Usually, when I hear someone making the case for taking care of creation and combatting climate change, they talk about future generations. What shape will the world be in when our grandchildren’s grandchildren are here? I suspect, however, that, four generations from now, my descendants will be just fine. Given the opportunities and privileges that my children and I have, I see no reason to believe that 100 years from now my family will be undernourished or inadequately sheltered or unemployable because of ecological reasons. But what about the people who already struggle to provide for their families? What about the people who do not have the resources to pick up and move away from expanding flood zones and rising sea levels and creeping desertification?
Climate change is about more than greenhouse gasses and rising temperatures. It is about more than beachfront property and historic churches. It is about more than the price of food and the cost of gasoline. Like the hurricanes and wildfires that are fueled by warmer and drier weather, climate change affects the poor more than it affects the rest of us, and that disproportionate burden will only get worse. Other than some passing comments about unquenchable fire, Jesus did not have a lot to say about climate change, but he preached a great deal about the poor, and he showed us that God abides with those who live on the other side of society’s wealth gap. Increasingly, in our generation, what it means to stand beside Jesus is to stand among those whose homes and jobs and families are being taken away by climate change.
I am not sure what we should do about that—as a parish or as individuals—but I believe that our prayers dishonor those in need if they are not offered with the intention of pursuing lasting change. We need to take action not only to help people rebuild their homes and to accept any refugees who come this way but also to make climate change something we talk about not only when disaster strikes. We need to move away from behaviors that contribute to global warming even if those changes cost us a little bit more. We need to let the magnitude of these tragedies fill our hearts and minds and souls with unbearable grief and ask God to translate that grief into faithful action that will lead to systemic change. God will heal the world—I have no doubt about that—but will we be a part of that healing?
To help with hurricane or earthquake relief or to support communities that are particularly vulnerable to climate change, you can donate to Episcopal Relief and Development here.
Yours Faithfully,
Evan